


sing me like a choir

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Torchwood
Genre: AU, Blow Jobs, M/M, Pre-Canon, Trans Newton Geiszler, Wall Sex, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Newt and Owen meet at a bar. What happens next is everyone’s guess.





	sing me like a choir

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to the pac rim Twitter gc for making me write this. You guys suck :/

Newt is on his fourth drink of the night when the man sits down next to him.

He’s mad- he’s really fucking mad right now. He’s mad at Hermann, and the PPDC, and Tendo-fucking-Choi, who had the utter nerve and gall and wherewithal to insinuate that Newt had a fucking _crush_ on _Hermann_? And on the day their funding got cut, no less?

No. Fucking no, okay? Newt does not have the time, nor the patience to deal with this. All he wants is to get blackout drunk in a seedy bar God-knows-where, and wake up the next day with no goddamn memory of the past twelve hours. Maybe twenty four, if he’s lucky.

And then the asshole next to him orders a whisky off the rocks, like it’s some kind of contest between him and everyone else in the bar. Newt turns to crack wise about the guy’s obvious suicidal tendancies (whiskey on the fucking _rocks_?), when he gets a good look at the man, and oh shit he looks just like Hermann.

Well, not exactly. He’s younger, for one thing, and way better dressed. His hair isn’t cut in that God-awful bowl, and he’s not as worryingly scrawny. But they have the same thousand-yard stare, and the same eyes and nose and everything. It’s like looking at two pictures taken during different times of day.

The man catches him staring. “Can I _help_ you?” he asks, and it sounds like less of a question and more of a request. Newt blinks.

“Uh,” he stammers, “no, I- sorry, you just kinda, y’know, look like someone I know.”

The man sighs. “Yeah, mate. I get that a lot.”

He eyes Newt up and down in a way that makes Newt shiver, like he’s a farmer looking over a prize racehorse. It’s not completely unpleasant.

The man sticks out his hand. “Owen Harper.”

“Newt Geiszler. Call me Newt,” says Newt, and wow even their hands feel the same? This shouldn’t be possible. It really shouldn’t be possible.

Newt is totally going to bang this guy.

Owen nods. “So Newt. What’s someone like yourself doing in a place like this?”

Newt laughs, maybe a little drunkenly. “Where the hell did you get that line?”

“A friend.” He smiles. “Now, you got an answer for me? Or are you gonna just sit there looking pretty all night?”

Oh shit, now Newt can feel himself _blushing_. He ducks his head. “Shit. I probably shouldn’t say this, but what the hell. I work for the PPDC, and we just got defunded. I might be out of a job. Or dead in a week. Don’t really know.”

He picks up his glass and knocks back the rest of whatever the hell he ordered five minutes ago. Owen frowns.

“How’d that happen? No offense, Newt, but you don’t really look like a ranger.”

Newt shakes his head, the room wobbling a bit. “Nah, man. I’m with K-Sci. Head of Biology. And probably a bunch of other departments too, now that everyone’s jumping ship.”

Owen makes a humming noise. “That’s rough.” Then, the tiniest little sly grin slips across his face. “Anything I can do?”

 _Wow_. Newt did not expect things to progress so quickly. Either this guy is super desperate, or Newt’s charms are stronger than he thought.

He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “Never Trust An Atom”. It’s definitely the first one.

Newt licks his lips and tilts his head towards the door. “I’m in housing back at the Shatterdome. You got any better digs?”

The smile on Owen’s face widens. “Much better.”

The catch a cab to a _very_ nice hotel in the main area of the city, Newt urging himself to sober up at least a little bit. He’s not falling-down-drunk, but the world is pleasantly buzzy at the edges, and something tells him he’s going to want to remember the next hour.

The elevator ride up to the third floor is quiet, but Owen shifts a little closer and gives Newt a side-eye. And maybe Newt can admit that he wouldn’t mind seeing that look on Hermann. For scientific purposes, of course.

Owen unlocks the door with his key, and Newt doesn’t even get a chance to see how nice the room is before he’s being pinned to the wall, Owen’s strong arms holding his hands against the plaster, his lips utterly _ravaging_ Newt’s. Owen licks his way into Newt’s mouth like a starving man, and Newt lets out a moan. Fuck, this guy is fun to kiss.

Newt wraps a leg around Owen’s calf and pulls him closer, their chests pressed up against each other. Owen bites down on Newt’s bottom lip, then kisses over to his jawline, where he bites at Newt’s stubble until the skin there feels flushed and raw. Newt tilts his head back and actually _whines_ at the contact- God he hasn’t been made out with someone in so long.

Owen moves back to Newt’s lips and slips his tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cheap whiskey and cinnamon gum, a combination that isn’t half bad when the owner is moving his hips like _that_. Newt grinds into Owen’s erection, feeling his own clit throb through his jeans. He closes his eyes, feeling Owen move to nibble at his neck and whisper “I’m assuming from the feeling, you don’t have a dick?”

Newt nods as best he can. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly, “but I’ll suck yours.”

He can feel Owen grin at that, and after allowing a very stark hickey to be left on his neck, slides down to his knees. Owens’s jeans are almost as tight as his, and Newt fumbles with the zipper before getting it down. He mouths at Owen through his underwear, feeling his cock warm and erect, straining at his briefs. He loops his fingers around the hem of Owen’s jeans and pulls them down, finally getting his mouth on some skin.

Newt suckles a trail of kisses down Owen’s shaft, stopping to lick around the head of his rather nicely sized cock (if he really does look just like Hermann. _Well_ ). He takes the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the slit. Owen lets out a string of curses, bracing himself against the wall. He brings a hand down to tangle in Newt’s hair as Newt opens his lips and takes Owen’s full length into his mouth.

The hot, heavy weight of a cock on his tongue is pleasing, and Newt goes down the list of every trick he knows. He sucks hard and deep, then pulls back to let the tip of his tongue trail over Owen’s cock. Owen lets out a long, filthy moan, and pulls hard on Newt’s hair. Newt sucks again, hard, then shoves a hand down his pants to rub at himself. He can feel how close Owen is, and Newt isn’t far behind.

“Fuck,” murmurs Owen, fisting Newt’s hair. “That’s- fuck, that’s really nice.”

Newt hums in response, which makes Owen moan some more, and after another minute or so, he’s coming down Newt’s throat. Newt relaxes his jaw and lets it flow down easy, bringing up memories of deep throating all through college. He’s on the brink as well, and then he’s coming, a warm feeling of pleasure rushing through him and sending come leaking through his underwear and jeans. 

When the last of Owen’s come is drained dry, Newt pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shoots a coy smile up at him, and shakily gets to his feet. Owen kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants.

“That was…” he says a little breathlessly, putting his weight on Newt’s shoulder, “very, very nice.”

Newt raises an eyebrow. “Just ‘nice’? Geez, man, I guess I’ll have to give it another try.”

Owen grins back and lessens his weight on Newt, leading him by the shoulder to the bedroom. “I suppose you should. For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” says Newt, and pulls off his jeans.


End file.
